


Glimpses

by gentianblue (orphan_account)



Series: You're mine, I'm yours [4]
Category: Football RPF
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alternate Universe, Awkwardness, Children, Crack, Cuddling & Snuggling, Cute Kids, Domestic Fluff, Family, Fluff, Happy, Love, M/M, Twins
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-18
Updated: 2015-07-18
Packaged: 2018-04-09 05:27:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4335635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/gentianblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Snippets from Mario's life with Marco and their twin sons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Glimpses

**Author's Note:**

  * For [EirinStiva](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EirinStiva/gifts), [ChileanRach](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChileanRach/gifts).



> Sooo I'm finally back with some more fluff and occasional crack, because I felt inspired by the awesome feedback I received the last time I wrote something like this. If you like this work as well, please make me happy with telling me your opinion and leaving kudos or comments. :)
> 
> For ChileanRach: Thank you for all your comments, this is my form of kisses and hugs to bring a smile to your lips in the black shadow of the transfer window. :)
> 
> For EirinStiva: Esto podría ser ridículo (Sólo aprendí Inglés y alemán en la escuela :D ) Lo siento por mis errores.  
> ‘Glimpses’ es para usted que agradecerte tu interés constante en la cuento previo. Tus comentarios son una deleite para leer, son observante y con frecuencia divertida también. Muchas gracias por ellos.  
> Espero que usted va a divertirse. :)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a bit of a prologue and the twins are around 15 months old. :)

Going back to training and working for his comeback was one of the hardest things Mario has done in his life. He felt like a complete burden, weak and useless, not to mention incredibly guilty for leaving his sons with Yvonne for those few hours when he had to be on the pitch. He didn’t go with the team overseas and didn’t left Dortmund until their third away game in the Bundesliga, but a short wave of guilt is always there when he recalls those months.

It’s just natural, he thinks. And it was natural too that Marco was a little jealous of him in the first months after delivery because Mario got to see everything first, the smiles, the movements, the babbling, and could spend the whole day with the boys while Marco had to finish the season. It’s not like he said anything, Mario just felt it and saw it in his eyes sometimes when Marco was deep in thought, looking at a bundle of tears in his arms.

They got married in July in the small circle of their families and a couple of friends, and had their first big quarrel in less than a week. It was about babysitters, which they had to employ after all, because as much as it broke Mario’s heart, he couldn’t stay home and they couldn’t ask Yvonne every time.

However, every difficulty paid off when Mario scored for the first time after coming back. It was overwhelming to hear more cheering voices than _Judas_ -calls in the Signal Iduna Park, the feeling of being home again was one of the best things he has ever felt in his football career. That was months ago and he’s still trying to reach his top form, the only significant problem is his lack of confidence, not his physical state anymore.

They have only two matches left in this season. Luckily, because if there were more Mario would be afraid of losing their secured third place in the league. The team’s cohesion is so bad sometimes that it’s closer to repulsion and half of the key players are struggling with injury, including Marco. Okay, maybe he is a tad bit too negative about the current situation, but it’s understandable at nine in the evening after an exhausting 4-3 loss against Schalke. He doesn’t know whether he should be happier just because he played well and scored two of the goals when their defence is… simply a catastrophe.

What he doesn’t understand is that their defenders are all healthy alphas except Erik who’s a beta, yet on the pitch they were so unsure of every movement that Huntelaar managed to smash in three easily avoidable shots. This time he had to agree with Weidenfeller’s opinion what the goalkeeper eagerly shared during the bus trip back from Gelsenkirchen.

In the parking lot Auba ran after Mario and offered a ride, claiming that he looks like he’s ready to drop and shouldn’t drive home alone in that state. Mario declined. His… friendship or whatever with the Gabonian turned better in the last year and they get along quite well, but still, he doesn’t want to owe him anything.

So now he’s on his way home alone and tries to blink fast enough not to let his eyes stay closed. It sucks. He thinks about turning on the raido, but he's afraid the music would help him fall asleep instead of staying focused on the road. Due to roadblocks, he has to take an alternate route that goes past the hospital and brings a fond smile to his lips. The last time he went there was when they drove home with the babies.

Marco was insanely worried about everything. He kept checking the buckling of the child restraints, it never seemed right to him, and he read the instructions a hundred times without being sure he was on top of it—even when the mechanic with his special accreditation gave the A-okay, he just didn't believe it. And when they finally, _finally_ started off, Mario had to remind him from the backseat that driving faster than the pedestrians wouldn’t hurt the boys. He guesses it was the first time Marco actually comprehended that he is a _father_ , he has two beautiful sons from the love of his life. Well, at least Mario hopes he’s that to him.

He arrives home safely, but late enough that he has to be careful with noises when he unlocks the front door and enters the apartment. The boys must be asleep by now and Marco as well, especially because they agreed that he wouldn’t wait up for Mario.

 

* * *

 

 

Of course Marco is awake. He's playing some new game on Xbox, something he bought the last time Mario sent him for groceries and he came back three hours later.

“You didn’t have to wait for me.” Mario says instead of a greeting, but his voice doesn’t lack gratefulness.

“Hey.” Marco’s half-closed eyes immediately open and he switches off the console with a wide smile.

“You were great today.” He purrs and gathers Mario into his arms, hugging him tightly.

“I missed you though. We would have won if you played.” And Erik wouldn't have to receive so much chiding from Neven, even though he didn't do anything wrong.

“Next time, babe.”

Mario sighs and nods before dragging his tired body to the carpet and sitting on it with his back pressed to the couch.

“The boys?” He asks when Marco plops down next to him.

“They took pity on me today, so I had only one meltdown.” The little devils. Wide greenish-blue eyes and angelic features are not equivalent to leaving the walls puree-less and not pouring the baby powder out of its bottle.

“Now they are soundly asleep.” Marco whispers right into Mario’s ear. “Which is a really lucky thing for us.”

There’s an unmissable innuendo in his voice, one that Mario would happily hear if he could move a muscle. In this moment the hand that starts creeping up on his outstretched leg feels too suggestive.

“I’m tired, Marco.” As much as Mario wants to use this opportunity, he can’t. He just craves his soft bed and fluffy pillows.

“Don’t worry, babe, I’ll do all the work.” Marco murmurs a reply and kisses him with fervor as his hands move to the hem of Mario’s shirt, pulling on it.

“Marco” Mario breathes as soon as his lips are free. “Please…Not tonight.”

Marco doesn’t seem to listen, but he stops with a sigh when Mario’s hands push on his chest. “I just… wanted to make you feel better after the loss.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, no, you must be tired. I won’t push you.” He looks rather downcast for a moment before resuming his cheeky crooked grin. “Do you want a bath?”

Mario had a shower after the match, but thinking of the warm water and the lavender oil that does wonders to his sore muscles… “That would be great.”

“Okay then.” Marco kisses the top of his head and goes to prepare the bathroom.

 

Alone once again, Mario’s sure that he will fall asleep within ten seconds. He fights against it with all his might – sleep can wait until he hears what happened with his sons today – but when nothing seems to work, he stands up on his aching legs and reluctantly goes to grab a bite. There are a couple of papers on the kitchen table with messy crayon lines on them, making him smile in an instant. He can’t wait for the time when the boys can actually draw shapes and he can create a gallery on the refrigerator.

Munching on his snack, he observes a framed photo on the counter. It’s the worst picture from their wedding, yet Marco made sure they have lots of copies everywhere. Mario has to chuckle at his own ridiculously besotted expression, a strong contrast with Martin’s crying figure and Marco’s weird face as he tries to pry the second BVB pacifier out of Ollie’s hands. No matter that they buy two of everything, it’s never enough because Oliver always wants to have _both_. Mario shakes his head with a fond look, thinking that this is what his life has become, then goes to find his husband in the bathroom.

 

Marco has apparently lost his shirt somewhere in the process of filling the bathtub and the sight of his pale torso and messy hair stir something in Mario. It’s nothing sexual, just a desire to feel his mate’s comforting warmth against his skin. He pulls off his own shirt and tosses it away just like his socks, jeans and boxers until he’s standing naked with his arms reaching for Marco’s neck.

“Would you join me?” He murmurs and watches as Marco’s Adam's apple bobs.

“But you said…” Marco looks so adorably confused that Mario has to bite back a chuckle.

“Just to cuddle.”

He seems to hesitate for a moment before nodding and bending to take off his pants. “Anything you want.”

 While Marco undresses, Mario slides into the water quickly, closing his eyes and taking deep breaths in the wonderful lavender scent. Marco follows him soon enough and embraces him from behind with one arm, raises his phone in front of his face with the other.

“What’s with the phone?” Mario asks after cracking one eye open.

“I wanna show you something.”

That something is apparently a video that Marco recorded after the awful match. Martin and Oliver are sitting on the couch in their brand new BVB attire, looking in the camera with perplexed eyes and Mario swears his sons already know what a dork their father is. Their blonde hair isn’t combed neatly like it usually is, instead it’s styled up – presumably with a little water - on the top of their heads, forming cute sets of devil horns.

They have their current stuffed animal best friend close for emotional support, Martin chews a plush monkey’s ear and Ollie has a tabby cat toy in his lap. Then the post-match interview with Mario starts on TV and both of the twins turn their attention to the screen. Mario only hears his own lame words about the loss for a moment before Martin clasps his little hands together.

“Daddy” He exclaims as loudly as it’s possible for him and there’s snickering in the video.

“He did that every time your face appeared on the screen.” Marco says and they listen with matching grins as video-Marco asks his sons to repeat the silly words and sounds he utters.

Oliver doesn’t seem to like it too long though, and as he gets bored, he snatches the monkey out of his brother’s grip and throws it away with a triumphant look. In the blink of an eye Martin starts full on bawling with a rivulet of tears and Oliver joins him just for the hell of it. There’s an audible _‘fuck’_ in the video and then it stops.

“Uh, well, the first part was the important one.”

Marco shifts a little uncomfortably maybe in fear of scolding, but Mario’s too amused to pretend to be angry about the f-bomb, so he just smirks and leans back, resting his head on Marco’s shoulder.

“You’re an awful hairdresser.”

The relief in Marco’s laugh is clear as a day and Mario finds himself joining in when Marco reaches over to gather some water in his free hand.

“Babe, you didn’t even try me.”

He pinches Mario’s arm before making a weird mess from their hair and even proceeds to take a picture about the result. Mario makes a horrified noise in the back of his throat when he sees himself on the screen with red face and bags under his eyes and…

“Jesus, delete that, I have double chin there.”

His attempt of confiscating the phone is a failure in the very beginning, when Marco throws the device on the heap of clothes on the floor.

“Nope.” He laughs into Mario’s ear. “I’ll set it as wallpaper.”

Mario wouldn’t let it go so easily, but now both of Marco’s arms curl around him and make him feel so snug that only a content hum comes out of his mouth. He tilts his head to give Marco better access to his neck and relishes in the feel of the rough stubble scratching his skin.

"How's your ankle?"

"Fine. I think I can train with the team by the end of the week."

Mario hums again, his brain positively dazed and muscles less sore as the tension drains from his body with every gentle touch of Marco's lips.

“Your mother called.” Shit. So much for Mario's tranquility.

“Oh God, no." He groans. "What did she want?”

“She asked when she gets to see our sons again.”

“Next year, perhaps?” Is it necessary to discuss this now? Or ever? 

“I told her she can come over on Sunday.”

“What? But Marco…” Mario outright whines and isn't ashamed of it in the least bit.

“Hush” Marco says, laughing. “She will look after the boys for a couple of hours and we can have some… uhm, time together without explaining it to the babysitter. Still a bad idea?”

Huh, that doesn't sound so bad after all, although they have to come back before his mother thinks one of the boys has seizures when he just hiccups. That mistake was enough to happen once.

“I thought so.” Marco says smugly and presses a wet kiss to Mario's cheek. "Admit I'm brilliant."

"Oh, I think it's time for me to go to bed." Mario climbs out of the tub and fakes a yawn, pulling on the fresh pair of boxers Marco has brought for him.

"Hey, where are you going? Mario!"

The look on Marco's face is worth the tickling Mario gets in the bedroom until he admits that Marco is, indeed, brilliant.

 

 


End file.
